


songs of silence

by oceangraves (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Boats and Birds, Drawing, Fluff, Love Language, M/M, Sketchbooks, background matsuhana - Freeform, i guess?, iwaoi - Freeform, lavender - Freeform, matsuhana - Freeform, or is it lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 18:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6868522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/oceangraves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi Hajime is a boy with a sketchbook.</p><p>Oikawa Tooru is a boy with white headphones.</p><p>Both of them meet in the summer heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	songs of silence

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there.
> 
> I don't know how I managed to barf out this fic. Hope you enjoy tho
> 
> Thank you @carshalton and @ellazahuay on tumblr for beta-ing this <3
> 
> P.S. the Italics took me ages lmao

_Love knows not distance; it hath no continent; its eyes are for the stars._

**Gilbert Parker**

 

  
Iwaizumi bids farewell to Matsukawa and heads into the park with two notebooks and pencils cradled in his arms. A bird tweets and hops onto another branch, the leaves shake lightly from the sudden weight. Iwaizumi tastes the scent of greenery on the tip of his tongue. The wind blows by, and Iwaizumi feels it caress his skin then fade back into oblivion. A pause. It blows by again.

He walks past a group of children playing catch, a boy panting and flailing behind, a mother and her daughter with ice cream still cold on their lips. Iwaizumi holds two fingers up to the sun, squeezes it into forced perspective, then stares directly at the single star in a galaxy of millions. He sneezes. Something about the light, he notes.

So he steps towards the nearest bench under the shade. A boy his age is sitting there, white headphones covering his ears, but failing to hide a mop of messy chestnut hair. He’s tugging at the wire of his headphones and reading; his eyes skim quickly over lines and lines of beautiful black ink.

Iwaizumi sits down and turns to look at the boy, but he doesn't seem to acknowledge his existence. Instead he slips his finger under the paper and flips the page. Iwaizumi opens his notebook, gives one last look to the boy, and starts to write.

He does it a bit like Da Vinci. He draws sketches of birds, flowers, anything that comes across his mind, and writes down some notes.

He starts to sketch the outline of a small sparrow hopping in front of them, searching for food. Pencil scratches on paper; clay and graphite smudge on Iwaizumi’s skin. The sparrow hops one last time and takes off onto the trees, wings beating in the wind, but Iwaizumi already has its image printed into his mind. His fingers reach into his pencil case, searching for the soft rubber in an abundance of hard wood. He feels nothing. It’s not here.

He stays still for a while, with the wind blowing and tousling his hair. He looks to his left. The boy with the white headphones looks like he has one, since he has a pencil case and all. The case is small, but people bring their erasers right?

Iwaizumi sighs and decides to ask.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi says softly. “Do you have an eraser I can borrow?”

The boy reads on. Iwaizumi tries again.

“Hey.”

Only the soft bristling of leaves seem to answer his call.

He just can’t hear me, Iwaizumi tells himself. He picks up his pencil and gets his other notebook, a blank one he planned to use for writing.

_Hey, do you have an eraser I can borrow?_

He passes it onto the boy’s lap, slightly nudging his thigh, hoping to get his attention. The boy looks up, revealing hazel eyes. Their eyes meet, and Iwaizumi stares back.

In reality he’s staring into the eyes of a stranger, but Iwaizumi feels like he’s staring into the depths of infinity.

He coughs and looks away, cheeks flushed slightly red.

“Read it,” he says. The boy does so, and soon he reaches into his pencil case and pulls out an eraser, and Iwaizumi takes it with a silent nod of thanks. He takes back his notebook and continues sketching.

They stay like that, two strangers on the same bench, until Iwaizumi decides to take the initiative and write something.

_Hey, what are you listening to? Also, what book is that?_

He pushes it over and the boy takes it and reads. Iwaizumi taps the bench with his finger, and the boy looks up to him with both surprise and relief and an emotion Iwaizumi can’t really describe. The boy doesn’t take his headphones off.

He takes one of his pencils and writes.

 _It’s a very special song. :) I’m reading_ The Hunger Games.

Iwaizumi is surprised he actually replied.

 _Wow._ Lame, he tells himself. _What’s your name?_

The boy seems hesitant.

_Oikawa Tooru._

Iwaizumi smiles. _Iwaizumi Hajime._

It was then Iwaizumi finds himself writing in his blank notebook with a stranger called Tooru with white headphones he never takes off. He writes back, and soon it blossoms into a full-on conversation. No words are exchanged—silence and the scratching of papers say all. He learns that Tooru likes volleyball, just like him. Tooru likes reading, drama, literature and history. He also loves space and aliens. He got those headphones on his thirteenth birthday. Iwaizumi doesn’t notice the seconds slowly tick by, doesn't notice the people come and go. He stays there, talking to a beautiful stranger named _Tooru_ with a beautiful name and aspirations until he checks his watch.

 _I have to go,_ Iwaizumi writes. _Nice talking to you, Oikawa._

He collects his things, but Tooru pulls on his shirt sleeve, and pulls the notebook away. He writes something and shows it to Iwaizumi.

_Are you going to be here, tomorrow? Same time?_

Iwaizumi shoots him a look of confusion, but Oikawa looks desperate as he writes another.

_I’m really lonely. :(_

Iwaizumi hesitates, but sighs.

 _Okay,_ he writes. Then he leaves, giving one last look to _Tooru_ who stole his heart with a pair of white headphones, a notebook, an eraser, and a pencil.

 

  
He really is sitting there.

Same white headphones, same book, fingers now tugging on the ribbon of a copper bookmark in the shape of a delicate feather. Iwaizumi approaches and Tooru looks up, hazel eyes blown wide, but soon he’s smiling like he’s just seen the expanses of the universe.

Sunlight shines through the leaves and spots of light land on his face, and Iwaizumi thinks he looks _ethereal. He’s beautiful,_ Iwaizumi tells himself. He covers his face with the back of his hand to hide his blush and sits down.

Tooru’s fingers curl around the notebook and Iwaizumi lets him take it. Tooru starts writing.

_Thank you, Iwa-chan! <3 I thought you would never come :)_

Iwaizumi chuckles. _I'm not that mean, Oikawa._

Tooru. _Hey, Iwa-chan, what are you drawing this time?_

Iwaizumi. _Carnations._

Tooru. _Oooh. :D_

Iwaizumi. _What?_

Tooru. _Carnations are nice._

Iwaizumi hums in agreement, and continues to sketch. He draws petals, so fragile but strong to the wind, then the stem. He quickly finishes his sketch of a magnolia he saw a while ago. He then quickly moves on to a sketch of a bundle of carnations. He feels Tooru’s eyes wander from sketch to words to sketch, and Iwaizumi can’t hide the smile that stretches across his face. They stay there, Tooru peering over Iwaizumi’s shoulder, eyes trained on lines and shades of graphite and clay.

Another bird hops by and Tooru nudges him, who immediately looks up. The bird hops in front of them. Iwaizumi sketches it. Pencil scratches again on paper. They stay there, Tooru leaning slightly on Iwaizumi. It’s after three hours or so Iwaizumi _really_ has to go and bids him farewell.

 _Tomorrow?_ Tooru writes, again looking at Iwaizumi. He nods, and that’s all it takes. It’s a promise, as long as they have each other.

 

  
Same place, same bench, under the same tree.

Tooru looks up at Iwaizumi as he sits down with notebooks and pencils in hand, and he smiles, radiant as ever, then he closes The Hunger Games shut with a bit of copper sticking out of the pages. Iwaizumi wonders why Tooru never takes his headphones off.

He brushes away the thought.

This time, Tooru takes Iwaizumi’s sketchbook, or so he calls it. Tooru flips through the pages lightly, inhaling the smell of notebook paper. He treats the paper with such respect if anyone stumbled across a boy called _Oikawa Tooru_ and a certain notebook they would think he’s handling some kind of ancient parchment.

But it’s not. It’s just some sketchbook a boy called _Iwaizumi Hajime_ happens to draw in.

Tooru reaches for the chat book, as he dubs it, and writes.

_It’s beautiful._

Iwaizumi smiles, but looks away.

“You’re the one who's beautiful.” He whispers the words into the wind.

When he looks back, Tooru is gazing at him with curiosity. Iwaizumi shrugs.

 _Thanks,_ he writes instead. _I’m glad._

Tooru smiles. _No problem Iwa-chan, you’re a really great artist! <3333_

They once fall into a lapse of silence; only the sound of pencils and bristling leaves and paper and birds chirping can be heard. Iwaizumi breathes in the scent of flowers.

Then Tooru takes the notebook.

_Hey, Iwa-chan._

Iwaizumi looks up.

 _Yeah?_ He writes.

Tooru picks up his pencil, puts the tip on the paper, but hesitates. Instead he writes,

_Nothing, Iwa-chan. Don’t mind that._

Tooru seems uncomfortable afterwards, his fingers scratch the edge of the book before flipping the page. Iwaizumi feels worried. He takes the notebook with pages and pages of messy and scribbly writing and writes one single sentence:

_You can tell me, Oikawa._

Tooru smiles in apology and changes the subject.

_Hey, Iwa-chan, do you want to know what I’m listening to?_

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow at the sudden question, but replies anyway.

_Yeah?_

Tooru smiles, but in Iwaizumi’s eyes, he looks like he wants to bury himself in a corner and cry.

 _It’s_ Boats and Birds _by Gregory and the Hawk._

Iwaizumi traces his fingers on the messy handwriting, and Tooru takes it back.

_Iwa-chan, do you want to listen?_

Iwaizumi nods, and Tooru bites his lip as he gently pushes the headphones off his ears. Strands of hair fall onto his face, brushing his ears. He pulls the headphones off his neck, then hands them to Iwaizumi gingerly. Iwaizumi takes them and slides them onto his ears.

He hears nothing.

Iwaizumi looks at Tooru, searching for an answer. Tooru reaches for a pencil, and with shaking hands, he writes:

_I’m deaf. That’s what I wanted to tell you, Iwa-chan._

The words scattered on the page- crooked, smudged. His eyes are brimming with tears and he looks like he’s pleading Iwaizumi not to leave, not to abandon him, he looks like he’s saying I wanted to tell you because I trust you, don't let me lose you, you’re one of the only friends I have.

Iwaizumi wipes away Tooru’s tears with his thumb and writes a single sentence.

_You’re still beautiful, stupid._

Tears escape from his eyes as his head falls onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder, and he wails and cries and sobs into the fabric of Iwaizumi’s shirt. Iwaizumi puts a hand on Tooru’s back, fingers brushing up and down against his spine, trying to soothe him.

Iwaizumi doesn’t care if people stare, right now it’s only _him_ and _Tooru_ on a _bench_ in a _park_ under the same _tree_ and _nothing else_ in the world matters.

 

It is truly amazing what can happen in a span of three days.

Iwaizumi meets a stranger, falls in love, starts writing in a notebook with someone else, puts on a pair of white headphones. They’re sitting on the same bench in the same park, closer now, and Tooru pulls the notebook onto his lap and writes.

_Iwa-chan, I need to tell you something! A picture of a small alien._

_Yes, Stupidkawa?_

Tooru smiles as he writes. _So mean, Iwa-chan! :( Yesterday, I was really happy. Thank you. <3_

Iwaizumi smiles and pushes his earpiece further into his ear. His iPod is playing _Boats and Birds_ and they are both listening to it, each having an earpiece on. Iwaizumi knows even though Tooru can’t hear it, he’ll still listen.

Tooru leans onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder, closing his eyelids and breathing in the fresh air, tasting the scent of flowers and heat haze days.

Iwaizumi stares at him. He’s ethereal, otherworldly, celestial, gorgeous—in other words, _beautiful_. Iwaizumi feels like he’s run out of vocabulary just by meeting Tooru. It’s only when Tooru stares back at him with his brown eyes Iwaizumi realises and adverts his gaze.

_Stop, stop, stop, stop, what are you doing, Hajime? Stupid!_

Iwaizumi feels a slight nudge on his shoulder.

_Iwa-chan?_

He stares down at the notebook, then at Tooru. He feels his face redden.

_Nothing. I'm fine._

Then Iwaizumi realises that he didn’t just fall for Oikawa Tooru— he fell hard. The heat from the summer air doesn’t faze him— he doesn’t feel dizzy and the fact is clear-cut in his mind, so he speaks to Matsukawa in the morning the next day.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi says to Matsukawa over the phone. Iwaizumi buries himself deeper in his futon, ignoring the fact he needs food. He’s gone to brush his teeth already but he doesn't care less, there are other things more important in his mind.

He hears Matsukawa inhale and he can _imagine_ the smirk on his face as he speaks to Iwaizumi.

“Yeah, Iwaizumi? What’s up?”

Iwaizumi sighs.

“I hear a rather lovesick child.”

“I'm not a child,” Iwaizumi retorts.

“That means you’re lovesick,” Matsukawa laughs.

Iwaizumi frowns. “I probably am.”

A pause. “Woah, did I just hear the great Iwaizumi Hajime admit that he’s lovesick? A miracle, if you ask me.”

Iwaizumi stays silent.

“Is that all you have to say? If it is, I’m hanging up.”

“Matsukawa Issei.” Iwaizumi says, leaning back. “Have you ever been in love?”

For the first time in Iwaizumi’s life, Matsukawa doesn’t say a word for ten whole seconds.

“Yeah, I have.” His reply is slow, soft. “I mean, I am.”

“Who?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Hanamaki.”

Iwaizumi smirks. “I knew it.”

Matsukawa hums. “So, what do you want to say? Cut to the chase. You’ve been avoiding the topic for the whole conversation, _Hajime_.”

“Fine,” Iwaizumi deadpans. “I'm in love. In a span of three days. Isn't that weird?”

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” Matsukawa says, suddenly solemn. “I’ve known Makki for three whole years and I only figured it out last week. You just realized it sooner.”

“It’s different.”

“It’s _love_ , Iwaizumi. Embrace it. Still the same essence.”

Soon Matsukawa hangs up and Iwaizumi is left thinking.

 

He meets Tooru in the afternoon. Once again Iwaizumi plays _Boats and Birds_ on his iPod, and they listen to the soft plucking of strings and the music along with the sound of cicadas in the bright summer sun. Iwaizumi sketches. Tooru takes his notebook from his lap.

A nudge, and Iwaizumi reads.

_Hey, Iwa-chan, I searched for the lyrics of Boats and Birds, hehe :9_

What do you think? He replies.

Iwaizumi looks up and peers at Tooru, who’s again toying with the ribbons of his bookmark.

Tooru picks up his pencil again and the scratching of paper fills Iwaizumi’s ears.

_It’s beautiful. Like your sketchbook._

Iwaizumi frowns.

_It’s not that great, seriously. I'm not an artist. Also, it’s not a sketchbook or anything._

Tooru laughs, and Iwaizumi is captivated.

_If you keep frowning like that, Iwa-chan, you will have permanent forehead marks!_

I’ll punch you. Iwaizumi glares at Tooru, hoping to knock some sense into his brain, but he can’t stay angry for long.

Tooru chuckles and writes.

_Hey, Iwa-chan. I think I don't know you that well :( So, let’s play a game, Iwa-chan! To have fun and get rid of those wrinkles on your forehead! I’ll give you five questions and you give me five, and we’ll answer those :D_

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes.

_I don’t have permanent forehead wrinkles._

Tooru grins. _You’re about to have some. You first, then, so we can get rid of those faster. Five questions :P_

Iwaizumi sighs. He can’t back out of this one, so he starts with a simple question.

_Which position do you play for volleyball?_

Tooru’s reply is quick. _Setter. :9 You?_

 _Wing spiker._ Tooru seems like he’s surprised, he glances at Iwaizumi with admiration. Iwaizumi grins proudly.

Iwaizumi taps his pen on the notebook paper, racking his brain for another good question that is not cliché. He realises that there is none. He thinks of _hanakotoba_ and a promise.

_Favourite flower?_

And without hesitation, Tooru replies: _Lavender. Now, Iwa-chan, why are you so obsessed with that sketchbook of yours?_

Iwaizumi frowns at Tooru. _I'm not obsessed. I just like drawing. Oikawa, do you do anything besides coming here, actually?_

Tooru knits his brow. _Well,_ he taps his pen and thinks. _I play volleyball and when I feel like it, I write. So, Iwa-chan, you like music, right?_

_Yeah, why ask?_

_That was a question, Iwa-chan! You only have one left :9 I think I have a present for you :9 Now, Iwa-chan, my question:_

_Do you believe in love at first sight?_

Iwaizumi stays silent for a while. _I don’t know,_ his conscience tells him.

 _Maybe,_ he writes.

Maybe he did, just for a little while.

 

  
Two days pass and Iwaizumi is now eyeing Tooru, who’s swinging a Kraft paper bag in his face.

Tooru turns the bag and Iwaizumi sees two words scrawled on the paper in black ink:

_Iwa-chan’s present <3_

Open it, Tooru seems to say. Iwaizumi takes the bag and Tooru smiles. Iwaizumi glances at Tooru for a second, then looks into the bag.

There’s a small bottle of lavender, a pair of white headphones, with an envelope.

Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows. Tooru takes the notebook, scribbles a few words, and shows it to Iwaizumi.

_It’s yours :) Open the envelope first!_

Iwaizumi does so. He takes the envelope, also made out of Kraft paper, then peels away the sticker closing the envelope carefully. He takes out the sheet of paper inside and he realises it’s part of the lyrics of Boats and Birds.

 _If you’ll be my star_  
_I’ll be your sky_  
_You can hide underneath me and come out at night_  
_When I turn jet black_  
_And you show off your light_  
_I live to let you shine_  
_I live to let you shine_

He flips the paper.

 _And you can skyrocket away from me_  
And never come back if you find another galaxy  
Far from here  
With more room to fly

_Just leave me your stardust to remember you by_

_From: Oikawa Tooru To: Iwa-chan_

It’s all written in black ink, in a neat and tidy script, different from Tooru’s usual scrawl. Iwaizumi looks up, and Tooru is looking at him. His eyes are observant— he’s waiting for Iwaizumi’s reaction.

So he takes the notebook and writes.

_Shouldn’t it be from me to you?_

He waits, peering at Tooru.

Tooru smiles back and Iwaizumi sits down, and no words are exchanged— only the silence of held hands and cicadas are heard.

 

  
At night, Iwaizumi slides the headphones onto his ears. They’re Tooru’s, and Iwaizumi is grateful. He listens to the muffled silence. It fills his head with song lyrics.

 

Iwaizumi puts the bottle of lavender on his desk, along with the headphones.

 

  
The sun rises and Iwaizumi decides to leave the envelope next to them.

 

They hold hands again, and Iwaizumi feels warm and fuzzy inside. They both listen to _Boats and Birds_ with Iwaizumi’s earphones. Iwaizumi doesn’t think he would be tired of the song any time soon.

Iwaizumi sketches with one hand, occasionally removing his left hand from Tooru’s to erase pencil marks. Tooru watches, again peering over Iwaizumi’s shoulder, then he takes the notebook from underneath and writes.

_So lavender is our promise?_

He slides the notebook back onto Iwaizumi’s lap. Iwaizumi replies.

_Always. Until we can be together forever._

Tooru looks ecstatic, and his eyes are filled with tears of joy. Iwaizumi smiles with content. He then stares at the miracle named _Oikawa Tooru_ who looks like he’s made out of gleaming stardust from the galaxy.

 

  
From what he knows, it’s Tooru’s birthday in three days. He looks at his calendar— July 20 is circled repeatedly with a red marker. Iwaizumi goes out to buy lavender. _A promise._

He goes shopping for a while and ends up buying dried lavender, a Kraft paper bag, a black marker, a roll of ribbon, a bracelet and a card. He also gets a small alien plushie from a plushie machine he sees along the way.

Iwaizumi leaves them in a box in his room before heading to the park to meet Tooru.

Tooru writes as soon as he sits down. _Iwa-chan! ( ^ω^ )_

Hey. Iwaizumi replies. Then he proceeds to take out his iPod and earphones. Tooru takes an earpiece, and Iwaizumi does the same, and they once again listen to the soft strumming of guitar and the singing.

Iwaizumi. _Hey, Oikawa, it’s your birthday in three days, right?_

Tooru. _Yep! Iwa-chan, do you have a nice present for me? :D <3_

Iwaizumi. _Probably._

Tooru. _What?? D: < Iwa-chan, you better have a nice one, cause I'm giving you a great one for yours next year! I have it all figured out! <3_ A picture of a small alien.

Iwaizumi. _Well, Tooru, I need something if you want that present._

Tooru is caught off guard, but soon he regains his composure and writes. Well, what is it?

Iwaizumi. _Oikawa, do you have a phone?_

Tooru. _Ooooh Iwa-chan._ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Iwaizumi glares at Tooru. _What._

Tooru. _Iwa-chan is asking me for my number :9_

Iwaizumi. _Yeah, so?_

Tooru. _It’s a miracle._ (￣u￣)ゞ

Iwaizumi. _Just give it to me._

Tooru. _Naaaah! Idiot! Hahaha >:D_

Iwaizumi. _I’ll punch you._

Tooru. _No you won't Iwa-chan :(_

 

Iwaizumi finally ends up with a defeated Oikawa and a set of numbers scrawled onto his notebook.

Oikawa pouts like a six year old and Iwaizumi resists the urge to kiss him.

 _Mean Iwa-chan_ (T ^ T)

Iwaizumi grins. _That’s what you get, Trashkawa._

_Mean :’(_

Tooru pouts some more and Iwaizumi flicks Tooru’s forehead with his fingers, and they laugh and laugh like they’re in a world of their own.

 

The sun sets and Iwaizumi pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his contacts and selects one named ‘Idiotkawa’, taps ‘Message’, and types.

 **You** Hey, Tooru.

Four seconds later his phone vibrates and a clear ‘ping!’ sounds from his phone.

 **Idiotkawa** iwa-channnnnn!!!  <333

Iwaizumi smiles down onto his phone. Iwaizumi once wondered why people would talk on the phone for hours without rest and stare out of windows for no reason at all, but now he understands.

It’s _love_.

He feels ecstatic. Like he’s just stared into the depths of infinity or the expanses of the universe for the first time.

Like he’s seen _Tooru_ for the first time.

 **You** Hi.

 **Idiotkawa** iwa-chan messaged me O3O

 **You** Yes, I did?

 **Idiotkawa** now I can tell iwa-chan how much i love him yayyyyy *\\(^o^)/*

Iwaizumi smiles lovingly and replies.

 **You** Same.

 **You** I have to do something now, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Tooru.

 **Idiotkawa** but why iwa-channnnn :(((((

 **You** You’ll know.

Iwaizumi feels bad for leaving Tooru like that. But soon he locks his phone and stuffs it away, takes out his box of lavender and Kraft paper and begins to work.

 

  
He wakes up to 7 messages.

 **Idiotkawa** iwa-chan??

 **Idiotkawa** iwa-chan?????

 **Idiotkawa** :(

 **Idiotkawa** iwa-chan what are you doing

 **Idiotkawa** is it my birthday present??

 **Idiotkawa** I hope it is

 **Idiotkawa** thank you iwa-chan!!!  <33

He wants to reply.

_You idiot, of course it is._

The message stays there for a while, but Iwaizumi deletes it.

 

  
He meets Tooru at the park.

Iwaizumi is immediately engulfed in a hug, which surprises him and he stumbles backwards, grasping for anything to keep him upright.

Tooru chuckles and lets go of Iwaizumi, who regains his balance. Tooru grabs Iwaizumi’s notebook from him, heads over to the bench and grabs his pencil from his pencil case. He scribbles down a short note and shows it to Iwaizumi.

_Hey, you checked your messages, right? So, is it my present?_

Tooru looks like a child waiting to unwrap their birthday presents. Iwaizumi pulls out his phone from his pocket and shoots Tooru a look that says _you take out yours_.

Once Tooru is back with his phone and is looking at Iwaizumi expectantly, he types his message and hits ‘send’.

_You idiot, of course it is._

Tooru practically _glows_.

He smiles to himself before Tooru squeezes the air out of his lungs once again, and Iwaizumi is _alive_.

 

One more day.

Iwaizumi is _excited_.

He again takes out the box. He uncaps his marker and scribbles down a nice ‘Happy birthday, Tooru’ onto the card, then draws the small alien Tooru loves so much at the side. He adds a strand of lavender and puts them into an envelope, then seals it.

Then he opens the box containing the bracelet. It looks rather plain, Iwaizumi notes, but it shimmers and shines under the light, casting reflections on the walls of his room. Iwaizumi feels proud he found this.

_Tooru would be so happy._

He hopes so, at least. He snaps the box shut and puts it into the paper bag. He wraps a strip of ribbon around the bunch of lavender, a few loops around the stem, then holds it in front of his nose to inhale the scent. He then also stuffs it along with the plushie into the paper bag and Iwaizumi stares at it.

It lacks something.

Iwaizumi reaches for his marker and writes ‘For Oikawa Tooru’ on the bag.

He leans back and smiles.

_Perfect._

 

  
It’s around two in the afternoon and Iwaizumi goes into the park.

This time he keeps his things in a bag. It’s slung over his shoulder and it sways as he walks. He’s again greeted by the scent of greenery, and the summer sun sends rays of sunlight that pelts his back. Iwaizumi goes to the nearest tree under the shade and again Tooru is sitting there. He lights up and puts down his book on his seat, rushes up to Iwaizumi and tackles him at the neck. Arms circle around Iwaizumi as he again stumbles back to regain his balance. Iwaizumi hugs him back. They break from each other, but their fingers are intertwined.

 _Iwa-chan!!!_ Tooru writes as soon as he gets his hands on the notebook, and passes it to Iwaizumi.

_Hey, Tooru._

Tooru smiles into the notebook.

_Guess what, Iwa-chan? :)_

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow. _What?_

_I love you, Iwaizumi Hajime!!! <333_

Iwaizumi blushes and looks away, adverting his gaze to a small flower by the bench.

He turns back and replies.

_I love you too, Oikawa Tooru._

Tooru glows like a star in the sky and Iwaizumi can’t take his eyes off.

Tooru grins at Iwaizumi’s expression, then pokes his nose playfully, before rocking back and laughing. He then takes the notebook.

_Iwa-chan is shy :9_

Iwaizumi bites his lip.

_Stupidkawa._

Tooru laughs again.

Iwaizumi flicks him on the forehead. They write to each other sweet nothings and sit next to each other on the bench, together in these heat haze days.

 

_Today is the day._

Iwaizumi smiles as he rounds another corner.

His fingers are curled around the strings of Tooru’s bag, and he’s swinging it somewhat happily.

 _It’s honestly a beautiful day,_ Iwaizumi thinks. The heat of the summer sun beats his skin, cicadas chirp continuously in the distance, but Iwaizumi doesn’t mind the noise. It reminds him that it’s summer. The trees provide shadow in the blazing summer sun. Iwaizumi is relieved as he takes another turn into the park. He goes to the bench, and Oikawa isn’t there.

Iwaizumi checks his watch. He’s around ten minutes earlier than usual, so it’s okay.

Then he hears the screeching sound of tires and a sickening crash.

Iwaizumi stands there.

_It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay_

Ten seconds later he’s taking off to the road as fast as his legs could take him. His heart beats like crazy; his lungs strain to get oxygen.

_It’s okay, Hajime, it’s not—_

It’s Tooru.

Still. Broken. In a pool of his own blood.

His breathing hitches. He feels tears sting his eyes.

He knows one thing. _Oikawa Tooru is dead._

_No, no, no no no no no no_

He smells the strong scent of blood. He chokes.

_No, no, no, why, Tooru_

Iwaizumi walks closer. He touches him. He feels nauseous. His voice strains to scream out, to yell, to cry, but he can’t make a sound. All that comes out is a choked-out sob.

_Tooru, no, please, God please don’t do this to me, no no no no no_

He touches his own cheek.

It’s wet.

He looks down at his hands and his fingers are crimson red.

(Night.)

 

  
He feels _empty_.

 

  
_Please_

_Tooru_

_  
Don’t leave me._

 

 

Tooru was wearing red headphones. Iwaizumi decides that the colour doesn’t suit him.

_It never did._

 

  
The Kraft paper bag now sits next to the pair of headphones. (Stardust.)

 

  
Iwaizumi doesn’t watch the news for a week.

 

  
Matsukawa comes over with Hanamaki.

They stay silent, eating their own food. The room is eerily silent without the constant chatting of Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

Hanamaki offers Iwaizumi a cream puff.

A pause. Iwaizumi takes it.

 

  
Another week later Iwaizumi looks at the pair of headphones on his desk. He slides them on and doesn’t say a word.

 

  
The next day Iwaizumi goes back to the park.

He goes to their bench. It’s occupied.

Iwaizumi pries his eyes away and walks away, head down, jaw clenched.

 

He writes one last message onto the notebook.

_Hey, Tooru, you said you always wanted to see the stars, right? I’m going to Miyagi. There might be stars there, you know? It’ll be beautiful, right? But it’s never the same without you here._

Before he knows it, he’s already clenched his pencil tight and drops of tears splatter onto the paper.

 

  
Summer ends and Iwaizumi feels a bit better.

Matsukawa again takes the seat next to him. He slides into the seat noisily, as if trying to get people’s attention.

People stare at him but he doesn't care.

It’s not like he’s quieter than usual. It’s not like Matsukawa and Hanamaki are silent.

It’s not like he has lost a part of his soul.

 

 

“Hey, Iwaizumi-kun.”

“Iwaizumi-san.”

“Iwaizumi-sensei.”

“Iwaizumi-senpai.”

“Iwaizumi-chan.”

Matsukawa sighs. “ _Iwa-chan._ ”

Iwaizumi is jerked back into reality. The teacher is still droning on about World War Two and the Autumn wind blows into the room from the windows, keeping Iwaizumi awake. He looks back down at the sketch he was working on, and Matsukawa peers over his shoulder.

“Lavender?”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi taps his pencil on the drawing paper. He’s switched from notebooks to sketchbooks, and it’s filled with small sketches and watercolour paintings.

Matsukawa looks at Iwaizumi, gazing at the side of his face lazily. “Why?”

Iwaizumi smiles, but doesn’t answer.

 

  
_Because once upon a time, lavender was a promise._

_  
It still is._

 

  
Do you believe in love at first sight?

Iwaizumi does.

It’s amazing what love can do, Iwaizumi tells himself. It destroys, it conquers, it binds two people together. Many people search for love— for relationships that can fail, for hearts that can be stolen. But it doesn’t matter. Love can be temporary, or it can be in your heart forever. Love can become part of you, can tear off a part of you. Love can be formed within a span of three days, or three years— whatever it takes. Love can be a promise, like lavender, like a pair of headphones, like the sketchbook he now treats with respect and care.

He knows that love can be all those things. There is another thing he knows for certain.

He will never forget the boy with white headphones who stole his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
> 
> \- Alfred Lord Tennyson


End file.
